I scribble notes to myself on a pad, actually multiple pads and scraps of paper, & sometimes they don’t always make sense to me or it takes a moment for the word or words to form a connection in my mind. The other day it was “Arian Foster.” It was the last name that got me because I remembered about the basket–for a few days I kept referring to “Foster’s Basket.” I don’t know why I clicked on the link about a football player signing with Houston. I suppose I wanted to know why he was overcome with emotions at his press conference. Watching the clip, I was crying along with him.
The story is that when he was little he was going to buy something specific for each of his family members, when he made it big in football. He told everyone what he was going to get them and then they all asked, “What about your mom?” He replied, “A fruit basket.” I have to chuckle because I think kids either get the ideal gift spot on or they have some crazy (to us, not them) idea come to them. He was 7 when he made these statements and it became a running joke in his family. They’d say to him, “When are you going to make good on the fruit basket?” But, what really got me was when he was talking about how hard he saw his mom work and how she pawned her wedding ring one night to put food on the table. He didn’t want to have to do that to his children. He went on to say that’s why he works hard and doesn’t complain too much (the article mentioned all that he had accomplished for the team but he wasn’t really compensated for it, mentioning his salary ). He said, “At the end of the day we are all people and all we want to do is smile…even when we were growing up and things were tough that’s what he had, what kept my family going is that we smile through it all.” He was grateful for what had come his way and hearing him say that was so profound for me. Here’s a man who, at that particular moment, could demand more and probably get it but he was happy to have a job. He came to that job and gave it his all and was satisfied with that. He didn’t have to worry about the lights being turned off or putting food on the table and, in part, that defined “success” for him. That’s food for thought (couldn’t help myself)–but, seriously, it’s something to really reflect on.
So, every once in a while I remind myself of Foster’s Basket.
(As a side note, he did have a fruit basket delivered to his mom at her work place!)